slowly, it's taking over me
by kaaterina petrova
Summary: A snowed-in mansion reveals a dead girl and seven suspects, all with their own secrets to hide. Detective Salvatore only came for the booze. / Damon-centric, slight klaroline, kalijah, stelena, but not ship-heavy.
1. baby, can you see

**a/n:** I'M BACK BITCHES! (kudos to you if you recognise who I'm sorta quoting!) So it's been a long time, . But I might be here to stay. Maybe.

This is a murder mystery story - I was inspired by a famous book, again, if you can guess who, I'll grant you an imaginary cookie - and it'll be done in short snippets. I should be able to get up a chapter a week, I think, so yay for consistency. Dedicated to my friend, Fatima, for being an adorable boiled potato and Lu, eh, just because. You're all awesome and thank you and enjoy!

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**(chapter one or, rather, the game begins)**

.

**_Baby, can you see,_**

_I'm calling,_

_A guy like you should wear a warning_

_It's dangerous._

.

.

Elena Gilbert presses her deep red lips together, feels a delicious shiver curl down her spine. The snow drifts down in soft flakes, already settling—there'll be a cold crisp blanket by tomorrow, sure as sin. She's dressed to _kill_ tonight, dangerously soft in colours of daring red.

There's cruel desire written in her lips, she's out for a mystery tonight—ready to be swept up into a whirlwind, my dear?

Oh, you have _no_ idea.

One perfect crimson high heeled shoe steps in, then another, _sweep_ your gaze around. The party's a paradise for the demons restrained deep within her chest.

Guard your hearts, stiffen the walls around your heads for Elena Gilbert's around—and Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and destruction herself would tremble with envy.

.

.

There's a sharp _flash_ of manicured nails ... _Stifle_ that scream, go on, wrap your hands around that slim neck...

The boots of the devil press deep into her chest.

.

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Caroline Forbes rushes from the drinks to the foods to the music in a heady whirl. Party planner to the stars, she's perfected the dance she draws in her heels—_check the foods, top up that glass, smile, how are you, she's doing great, having fun_? Her heart pitter patters away wildly, encaged in that thing they call ribs and bones, and her head is spinning but she won't stop, no.

She's smiling and laughing and threatening and warning and eyeing the new guest in red at the doorway and _this is a party, not a funeral so pick up the damn tempo_!

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Klaus Mikaelson tries not to think of the party planner rushing around. He watches her flit from obligation to obligation, fingers tingling with the itch to calm her down. He knows how—wrap your arm around her waist, breathe dirty secrets into her ear, watch her flush in determination, inhale the dizzy scents of perfection in your arms.

A ready glass of wine in his hands, his gaze is drawn to the girl dressed in red fire at the doorway. He smiles wolfishly_, hello, my lovely—I don't recall you being on the guest list._

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Katherine Pierce slips from room to room, leaving bedraggled lovers entangled in silk sheets in the way only she knows how. Her eyes flicker everywhere, noting the rooms, the people, the doorways before a hand curls around her arm—lower your lashes, push out your bottom lip.

You're not Katherine Pierce, you're innocent, oh-so-chaste Daisy McFee, remember?

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Elijah Mikaelson catches the slippery guest with the tantalising curls almost effortlessly, putting a hand around her arm. She makes a quip about big hands, eyes sparking naughtily, his boots winking in the light, almost devil-like.

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Bonnie Bennett croons into the microphone, swaying with the hypnotic notes. She's exquisite, isn't she, boys? In her gown of gold with her nightingale voice, she's too good.

Focus, sweetie, but don't let it be too obvious now. I think you're ready now.

.

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Kol Mikaelson drinks and laughs and picks pockets because people are idiots. Why, hel-_lo_ old boy, how are you, thanks for the priceless family locket, see your wife later.

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Damon Salvatore needs a drink.

And he will always need a drink, intoxicate him with the numbing pleasures of the liquor, stifle him with any old distraction. He steps into the party. Better late than never, make a beeline for the bar. Oh, someone's left their drink—not anymore, he downs it happily enough. Bourbon, his favourite. That heady glory he craves desperately all rammed up into one murky liquid.

Oh, how generous—you've left him a whole bottle. He needs it, you know—being a detective is hard work.

Someone clears their throat loudly. "Mr ...?"

"Salvatore with a S."

"Salvatore. The party is finished."

Damon blinks. Ridi—oh. Waiter guy is right. The room is completely empty, the last waiter leaving as quickly as he can. The door slams shut.

Empty room, almost full bottle of bourbon, horrible day—it's a dizzying blend. Flop down into that seat, cradle that bottle-it's your lifeline now—and swig that thing before they come downstairs and tell you to get the hell out. Damon gulps down another glass.

Ain't no bourbon like a—second swig and there's a scream.

Damon sighs. Just another day on the job.

.

.

Big doe eyes are staring up at him and she's stunning, absolutely gorgeous, you know the ones—sinful legs that go on forever, toxic lips of deepest red, slim, fitted dress wrapped around her body.

If only poor Elena Gilbert didn't have that ugly candelabra sticking out of her chest.

.

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"You all must have heard of me," he says and he almost stumbles. Stefan steadies his brother.

Elijah looks politely quizzical.

"Famous detective?"

Katherine blinks.

"I found the Moonstone?"

Kol asks, "Is that a porno?"

"It's a priceless jewel, hidden for centuries—fine, I'm the guy who did the 'Hello, brother' advert."

There are quiet sounds of recognition.

"I knew I recognised that accent!"

"Can I—,"

Damon clears his throat. "Elena Gilbert is dead and we are snowed in. It's logical to think that the killer is one of us."

"Nice going, Sherlock," Kol mutters.

Bonnie points at Stefan. "Isn't it obvious? It's him! He killed her!" Next to her, Caroline is still sobbing.

Before Stefan can protest, Damon speaks. "There's no actual proof and until I find the culprit, nobody is allowed out of this house."

"We're snowed in," Klaus says.

Damon ignores him. "Klaus, Kol and Elijah Mikaelson are the hosts. Who are you?"

"Caroline Forbes. I—I'm the party planner."

"Bonnie Bennett—the singer."

"Katherine Pierce. I'm a guest."

"Stefan Salvatore. Accused boyfriend of the deceased."

He needs another drink.

It's going to be a _long_ night.

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**a/n continued: **So I hope you guys enjoyed that - I know I enjoyed killing Elena. Ahem. I've given up on Vampire Diaries now so I live my hopes through fanfiction which is something you guys probably didn't want to bother knowing - whatever, I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a review? Try to guess who the killer might be, maybe?


	2. i'm calling

**a/n:** Next chapter's up and I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for your reviews, your favourites and following this! I love reading about who you think the killer might be! Also a shoutout to Leslie who spotted something very mysterious! Sorry to disappoint, Lu, but it's not Enzo! And that is the only clue I'll give!

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**chapter two (or the interviews begin)**

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_Baby, can you see,_

**_I'm calling,_**

_A guy like you should wear a warning_

_It's dangerous._

.

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She tastes the toxicity in the air—something's afoot, Elena thinks and her eyes land on Katherine Pierce. Steal a crystal glass of red wine, sip it—one, two. "Katherine."

"You weren't invited." Katherine's eyes flicker and there's something dangerous there, something of the deadly dragon fire in there.

Elena smiles, sweetly to the point of sinful. Oh, darling. So ignorant. "Don't you know, Kat?" I'm _Elena Gilbert_ and everyone is head over heels in love with me. "I don't need an invite." Cue closed mouth titter, flash sympathetic eyes—oh, aren't you _stu_-pid?

"Call me Kat again and I'll claw your eyes out," Katherine hisses like the banshee she is. "With a _fork_."

Elena only smiles wider. She's too high for you, Katherine—do you see? Her silver pedestal swings higher than your highest heels. "Oh, you're so funny, sweetie, suppose you haven't taken your meds tonight—have you seen Stefan?"

Katherine's eyes flash for a minute before a smirk pulls her lips. She'll widen her eyes at Elena, insincere innocence—how do you like that? "Stef-Stef's making moon eyes at everything in a skirt."

She pouts and Elena wants to maul her.

"Can't you keep a better leash on him, Crazypants?"

.

.

Drum your fingers on your desk. Narrow your eyes. Detective Salvatore's on your case now.

"Where were you at eleven thirty?"

Caroline Forbes swallows visibly. "With Klaus Mikaelson, in his office."

"What were you doing with Klaus Mikaelson?"

"We—we were going over my contract."

Damon takes another swig, to drown the hidden smile tugging at his lips. _Contract_, huh? Is that what they're calling it these days? "Did you know Elena Gilbert?"

Caroline's shaking her head, blowing her nose. Fingers curl tentatively around ten or so stuffed tissues. "I—I didn't but my mom did, before she died. I can't believe—," Her eyes fill with tears again.

Damon passes her the tissue box again. "Did you see anything suspicious?"

She takes in a ragged breath. There's the song of a strangled siren in her voice when she says quietly, "I ... did see—well, actually, it's probably nothing and—,"

"Anything you can give me will be very appreciated."

Caroline hesitates.

Very good, Ms Forbes, aren't you? The air seems to hum with tension, Damon leans forward. The glass in his hand stills, forgotten.

"When I was going to—to get some water, I—I saw Stefan Salvatore go into Elijah Mikaelson's office. _After_ Elena."

Stomach drops, put down the glass—you have nothing in it nor do you want anything to drink—clear your throat and smile. Lie, lie, lies. All twisted and wrapped up in pretty little smiles and innocent little tears. "Thank you, Ms Forbes. You can go now."

A whisper crawls back to him from the door she leaves swinging a little open, Ms Forbes' curious voice. "He drinks a lot."

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**to be continued**

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**a/n continued: **well? Does the elusive Caroline Forbes tick off any boxes in the killer checklist?


	3. a guy like you should wear a warning

**a/n:** slightly longer to make up for the lack of length in the last chapter and thank you for reviewing! Here's to finding out just that bit more.

Enjoy! :D

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**chapter three (or some clues are found)**

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_Baby, can you see,_

_I'm calling,_

**_A guy like you should wear a warning_**

_It's dangerous._

.

.

Bonnie Bennett is a famous singer. Bonnie Bennett is gorgeous, with her voice of pure gold and those prominent curls nobody forgets. Bonnie Bennett used to be Elena's best friend.

And now Elena _loathes_ her.

Look at her. Smiling, simpering, laughing at Stefan, her boyfriend. It's disgusting. Bonnie Bennett has no shame, the man-stealing bitch. Elena downs another drink angrily.

"Easy there, pretty darling."

Her fingers freeze on the glass, frosted ice merging with the blackness of her soul, as she slowly twirls on one heel. Kol Mikaelson, in the flesh. They say this one is the worst of the last three—drunk, drugged and damned. They say awesome tries to be Kol Mikaelson. He's got a touch of the danger in him, his smile as mad as a hatter. He grins at her and continues, "Hangovers aren't pretty. Take it from someone who knows. Kol Mikaelson."

"I'm Elena." Elena ducks her head and bites her lip. Tilt her head to one side and there's the sweet flicker of the light glowing up her soft skin, illuminating her beauty. Her eyes pass his face.

Kol's eyes follow hers to Stefan. They light up with the devil's fires. "Boyfriend troubles?" he says, offering a hand. "I'm an expert at making those go away. Dance with me, darling."

Elena shyly takes his hand, eyes flickering up to him. He sweeps her up into the dance, nodding his head and making her laugh as he twirls and spins her around, deliberately close to Stefan. They're wrapped in a perfect whirlwind and Elena's smile, bright enough to light up a corner of Hell, widens. Kol presses his lips to her ear and she begins breathing hoarsely, goosebumps everywhere. He whispers, "I'm going to dip you now, Elena."

She can't stop herself from nodding breathlessly and suddenly, she's up in the air, flying amongst the light, strong arms around her tightly. The music sings in her veins, lilting softly and making her flush. Oh, he's good. In an instant, he has her down. Only his arms are the ones keeping her upright and all Elena can see is his _gorgeous_ face.

Her fingers tingle with the heat, the electricity—

The flush seeps into her cheeks, singing—

Kol's breath hitches as he presses his lips to her ear once more—

Elena's eyes involuntarily flicker to Stefan's figure but he's not there—

"I know what you did, you bitch."

And there goes the music, the smile, the beauty.

So startled she lets Kol yank her back up, Elena feels the music around her turn stifling, hot, _heavy_. It presses and digs deep into her, cutting off her breathing, Kol's arms around her no longer soft and sweet, instead rough and coarse. He pulls her around the floor, spinning her so fast she's getting dizzy.

One, two—

"What are you—," she begins, heavily.

Three, four—

"Elena Gilbert, _arsonist_!" Kol hisses, grinning.

"I don't—," Her heart is beginning to panic, fluttering in its cage.

"You killed my sister, my little brother, my parents." The Mad Hatter is alive.

"I'm going to make you _pay_, Elena Gilbert."

He dips her again.

The room erupts in applause.

.

.

"Where were you, again?"

"With Caroline Forbes—we were going over her contract in my office."

Damon quirks an eyebrow at the confident man in front of him. He sprawls on the sofa, drinking wine he never offered Damon. Skin prickles. Klaus Mikaelson smirks the smirk of demons with a plan. Damon's always hated these sons of bitches. "Going over her contract means sexy times, right?"

"Got it in one, mate." Klaus eyes his wine.

Not your _mate_, dick.

_Don't_ shoot him. Don't hit him. Just think about stealing more of his stupid rich wine and smacking his face in his stupid rich with your stupid poor fist. Damon swigs more of the bourbon. "Did you have any interaction with Elena Gilbert? Did you know her?"

Klaus shakes his head. "Never heard of her, actually."

"Then why was she in your party?"

"Gatecrashing, mate." Klaus smirks. "We get a lot of those. You know what they say."

"No. I really don't."

"A Mikaelson always parties like there's no tomorrow."

Damon lets out a breath through his gritted teeth. A dead guest at a party she wasn't even invited to. Elena Gilbert, what an enigma—he thinks, the challenge swirling in his bourbon and in his veins. It's hard but that's what makes the game more fun. He narrows his eyes. "A dead girl was found in your big brother's study and you're drinking wine."

"Is it a crime to drink wine?" Klaus' eyes are bright. Push the pawn forward.

Draw the queen back, five steps. "Seems a bit strange. _Mate_."

"I know I'm innocent and I know I will always be innocent," Klaus says calmly. "Might be bad for business, though."

Damon resists the urge to punch him through the wall. "Did you see anything else? Anything strange?"

"Feathers."

"Feathers?"

"Feathers."

"Feathers?"

"Feathers. Peacock feathers, to be exact." Klaus' eyes are brighter than ever. Damon swears the rich boy is laughing at him, the devil's dance in those eyes.

"Like the ones your brother had on his hat."

.

.

Damon bends to pick up a stray feather. Twirl it in your fingers. Peacock. Damn you, Stefan. "Someone's framing you, Stef."

Stefan rubs his head. "Damon, that's what I've been trying to tell you—,"

Damon ignores him. "Do you see this? The feathers are too close to the body. Like they've been put there. We're dealing with a good one, Stef."

"Damon, this isn't a _game_—,"

"Think I don't know that, Stefan?" Damon's fingers rub at the scuff marks on the window sill. "Six people out there—and they all think you're the murderer. Only you and I know the truth—one of them is the killer and we're trapped in here with them." His eyes draw to the body again and he bends. Is that—_no_. "Help me get this off—,"

Four strong hands grip the candelabra; one, two, _heave_ and yank it out. Damon kneels down again. His fingers respectfully flicker over the dress. Stefan is unamused. "Damon, if you're trying to—,"

"Dead girls aren't my thing, Stef—do you see that?"

"What am I looking at?"

Damon points to a small indentation. "Boot prints. _High heeled_ boot prints."

Stefan's eyes widen. "It was a woman?"

But Damon's not finished. The plot thickens even faster, the wind picks up, howling with its baby snowflakes. He points to Elena's neck. "And those are handprints."

"But that looks like a man's—,"

"Exactly."

Damon huffs.

Bonnie and Clyde-wannabes are so overdone.

.

.

"So you didn't know Elena Gilbert?"

Kol shakes his head. His eyes are big and wicked like they hold all the secrets of the ages. What is it about these Mikaelsons that make Damon want to punch them all? "Never heard of her," he replies easily.

"Stefan says he saw you dancing with her."

Kol looks faintly amused. His hands are big, clutched around the usual Mikaelson custom-designed glasses. "You're going to believe _him_? We all saw your brother in the party, you know. Shouting and arguing with poor Elena. She was in tears."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"Didn't realise you had one."

Damon counts to ten under his breath. Kol's grin widens. "You were seen dancing with Elena Gilbert. Why did you say you'd never heard of her?"

Kol shrugs. "A lot of girls dance with me. It's a problem."

"Where were you when Caroline Forbes screamed?"

"Downstairs, getting more drinks."

"But the party was over."

Kol's lips quirk. "A Kol Mikaelson party is never over."

Arrogant rich pricks, _all_ of them!

.

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**to be continued**


	4. it's dangerous

**a/n:** Happy holidays to one and all! I'd almost - truthfully - forgotten about this story, what with all _college_ and _revision_ and _homework_ and not being able to do all three properly but here you go, another chapter to celebrate the start of the holidays. The story's going to span out over eight chapters and I'm loving reading who you guys think the killer might be - it's fun, thanks so much for favouriting, reviewing, following and here's to crying over exams and perfecting freak-outs.

Enjoy!

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**chapter four (the plot tries to thicken)**

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_Baby, can you see,_

_I'm calling,_

_A guy like you should wear a warning_

**_It's dangerous._**

_._

_._

Kol's eyes flash.

Furious, Elena snatches herself out of his arms. She's dealt with boys like him before. She knows how to drown demons. "Me," she says, voice dripping with the disdain a person who has only been pampered can only acquire, "an arsonist?" She tilts her head. "Careful, Kol Mikaelson. Arsonists bite."

Kol only grins wider. "I bite back, darling. Want—,"

Elena ignores him, darting away. She weaves and twists around the crowd, bumping into people before making it into the kitchen. Oil—oil, where are you? A millionaire's kitchen and there's no sign of—

"Um, do you need something?" Caroline's voice rings in the kitchen, resonating with confusion. Her eyes flicker with something, her fingers clench on the contract she is holding. Elijah Mikaelson stands next to her. The two are looking at Elena quizzically.

Elena automatically lets out a laugh. Shake your head. Smile wider than the bitter wolves howling in your chest. "No, I just—I was looking for the bathrooms."

"Second door on the left," Caroline supplies helpfully. She gives her a quick smile and adds to Elijah, "So we're all finished?"

"Everything seems in order, Ms Forbes."

"Please, call me Caroline. I hope we can work again someday?"

"I look forward to it." Elijah's eyes flicker briefly. "Though I presume my brother will make sure of it."

His voice is so quiet it's almost a breath but Caroline still blushes deeply. She nods and leaves as quickly as she can. "Hey, that is _not_ a vomit bag!"

Elijah's eyes flicker over to Elena who is watching. She remembers to tilt her lips up. "I'm glad you could attend, Ms Gilbert."

"I have to say, Mr Mikaelson," Elena takes another step closer, "I was very honoured to receive a special invitation from you. You really didn't have to come and find me personally, you know." She nibbles on her bottom lip very deliberately.

Elijah swallows. "It was my pleasure, Ms Gilbert. You are our guest of honour, after all." He shifts. "It is rather hot in here—would it be presumptuous of me to offer you a drink?"

Breathe deeply, slowly, _sensually_. Fingers flicker to brush back a stray curl. "Not at all, Mr Mikaelson."

Elijah pours them both a drink, Elena's eyes fixed on his face. Classic, handsome Mikaelson features. Strong jaw. Big arms. And she's always liked a guy in a suit. He smiles at her politely before offering her a drink first. Elena's fingers curl around the glass and Elijah bends his head.

She's about to sip when he suddenly glances up behind her and mutters something under his breath. "I'm so sorry, Ms Gilbert," he says. "If you'll excuse me…?"

"Of course."

The glass stays on the counter, untouched by Elena's lips. Oil, oil, where is the damn—_here_ we go.

Excellent.

This is going to be fun.

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.

"Elena Gilbert meant nothing to you?" Damon echoes.

"Well, I knew her growing up—our moms were friends and all but," Katherine leans in, "she was a psycho." She pauses before opening her purse and taking out a card. "I'm a detective as well. I was hired by Bonnie Bennett to track down someone who'd been sending her threatening letters."

"And your search led you here?" Damon eyes the card. Vervain Investigations? Damn, she _must_ be good.

"My search led me to _Elena Gilbert_." Katherine shifts. "I was with Elijah Mikaelson at around the time of her death. We were outside, talking when I spotted a trail of oil."

"Oil?" Damon repeats. He pauses. "You think it was Elena."

Katherine leans back into her chair. "Who else could it be?"

"Anybody else but the dead body?" Damon purses his lips. "This sounds a lot like something a guilt person would make up. Blame it on the dead so the living can go on, right?"

Katherine's eyes flash. "I lived in Mystic Falls, Virginia. You might not have heard of it. It's a small town. Fifteen years ago, I saw Elena Gilbert set fire to a house in our home town. The next day, a whole road was nothing but ash. Who else could it be?"

Damon presses his lips together. "Why should I believe you?"

"I'm in the same line as you." She nods to the card. "We're both detectives. The cops will be coming when the snow clears and you know you have to find whoever did this as quick as you can. You know you can trust me."

"So Elena Gilbert was an arsonist."

"I checked her body. There's oil under her fingertips."

Damon's breath hitches. "She was planning to burn the house down. So what made her stop?"

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**to be continued**


	5. there's no escape

**a/n:** so ... tiiiired. too much revision... why exams why?

ahem, anyway, thank you all so much for your reviews! it cheers me up to read them all - also, for Guest who asked for Kennett, I have to apologise. this story isn't really pairing-centred, it's just more of the murder mystery because i recently went through an agatha christie phase that lasted two days because my college library only has, like, a handful of them and i've, ahem, read them all. but kol does admire bon-bon, if that's any help? plus klaus and carebear hook up so there's that, too, for all my fellow, bruised, battered, plec-abused klaroliners. keep fightin' the good fight, klaroline's coming, everyone.

enjoy the next chapter!

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**chapter five (or what is happening?)**

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**_There's no escape_**

_I can't wait_

_I need a hit_

_Baby, give me it_

_You're dangerous_

_I'm lovin' it_

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Elena's fingers snatch up the matches out of her purse. She's about to light one when a voice stops her.

"Elena? What are you doing here?"

"_Stefan_." Elena breathes out, a smile already forming on her face. The matches slide back into her purse. She grabs him, tie in her fingers as she pulls him to her, and crushes her lips to his. He responds automatically, already forming himself to her body, before he pushes away.

"Elena—,"

"Don't talk. Just kiss me."

"Elena, stop—what are you doing here?"

"I came to find you. Why didn't you tell me you could take a plus-one?"

"Because we'd just had a fight and—Elena, stop—," Stefan pulls away. "This is what I'm talking about. I can _never_ understand you or your moods, Elena. You change so quickly—,"

Elena's eyes narrow. "There's nothing wrong with me, Stefan—,"

"I didn't say there was—,"

"So there's no need for you to say anything, not when I saw you with Bonnie!"

"Bonnie?" Stefan repeats. "What's this got to do with Bonnie?"

Elena scoffs. "I saw you with her, Stefan. Talking, laughing, _flirting_—,"

Stefan is stepping away, moving away from the kitchen. "Elena, I can't—you're being ridiculous. We'll talk about this at home."

"No. No. No, let's talk about this now, huh?" Elena laughs loudly, pushing through the door. "You're always doing this, Stefan!"

The party hums.

"Elena—,"

Act one, all eyes on main characters. Elena and Stefan take the stage, shouting at each other.

"Did you do it already, then, Stefan, is that it? Is she upstairs, in one of their beds? I bet you only picked that fight with me just to get me—,"

Audience takes a sharp intake of breath.

"Elena, would you stop being so crazy! This is why we can't have a proper relationship—you're too much!"

Cue sympathy from audience.

Elena changes tack. "Stefan, no, Stefan, I _love_ you—,"

Stefan turns away, blushing deeply when he realises the guests are all watching. He storms out of the room.

Kol claps. "Encore!"

.

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"I was with Stefan. We were talking about my music."

Bonnie Bennett fidgets.

"According to half the party, you were doing a lot more than that." Damon eyes the glass of bourbon. So ... _Close_.

Bonnie looks disgusted. "Stefan and I didn't do anything—I wouldn't, not to Elena—,"

"So you knew her?"

Bonnie breaks off abruptly. "No," she says, shaking her head, tapping a lone finger on her thigh.

"Katherine Pierce told me about your investigations into Elena so I don't need theatrics." Got enough of that from Barbie.

Bonnie nods resolutely, eyes filling up. Brilliant, another one. Damon's hand drifts sadly past the glass and lands on the box of tissues. "I just—she was a friend and then she left and then—now, she's—she's gone."

Damon narrows his eyes. "According to Katherine Pierce, you felt very threatened by her."

Bonnie tugs her lip with her bottom teeth. "She—Elena never left anywhere without her lighter." Her voice is laced with a softness, an emphasis, a dizzying warning.

Damon's not one for the riddles, though. "I know she was an arsonist. Mystic Falls, Virginia. You lived there as well?"

Bonnie nods. There's a crackling in the air; in the sudden fluorescent lighting of the office, she looks more like a ruthless businesswoman, ready to destroy her competition, and less of the soft, sweetness who lost her childhood friend.

"You know," Damon says, lacing the air with deliberation, "some would say that being threatened by another is enough incentive."

"For what, Detective?"

"For murder." Damon's eyes spark. "Stefan tells me you took a long bathroom break."

"It's my time of the month." Bonnie arches an eyebrow. Two can play at this.

Surrender. There's no more to get out of this one. "You can go."

Damon watches her leave, curiously calm. What are the odds, he thinks, that two out of six were childhood friends in the same town?

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**to be continued**

**a/n continued:** what are the odds, indeed? so bon-bon and kitty-kat lived in the same town as elena deady dead dead gilbert? and there was that fight between stef and elena - wonder if bon and stef could have done something, maybe? hint hint, any theories?


	6. i can't wait

**a/n:** hi and sorry for not updating quicker! It's the weekend and exams are coming so close I can feel them in my nightmares like ugh. *shivers* There's not very many chapters left so I hope you enjoy them and I do love reading all your reviews and theories! KEEP THEM COMING PLEASE THEY BRING LIGHT TO MY DARK EXAM-FILLED DAYS.

:)

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**chapter six (or some surprising truths are found)**

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_There's no escape_

**_I can't wait_**

_I need a hit_

_Baby, give me it_

_You're dangerous_

_I'm lovin' it_

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Elena stomps to the bathrooms angrily. She pushes the door open and glares at the two girls who are leaving before slamming the door behind them. A small clatter of make-up products, a sharp hiss of a brush being quickly drawn over hair, slight fingers pressing over a dress. There's someone else in the bathrooms.

Bonnie Bennett is fixing her hair. "Elena," she says in surprise. A flicker of something in her eyes, though. Something's wrong, very wrong. "I thought—,"

"You thought you could take my Stefan." Elena's eyes burn, loud and wild screaming restrained in the bones of her ribs. Her voice is a harsh hiss, forcibly restrained, her fingers unsteady.

If she wasn't so angry, she'd see Bonnie huff very lightly and roll her eyes. Bonnie shakes her head. "Elena, you're—,"

"If I see you go anywhere near him again, I _will_ kill you."

Elena bangs the bathroom doors behind her.

One, two—_three_…

Swearing under her breath, Bonnie takes out her phone from her purse and dials furiously.

.

.

Damon finds the glass of wine. It's sitting, quietly innocent, on Elijah's mahogany desk, amongst the sheaf of old newspapers. He doesn't pick it up at first, eyeing the red lipstick stains and inhales the heady scent before his eyes widen. He stares at the cloudy liquid. Clever, he thinks. Very clever.

When he tells Stefan, Stefan frowns. "She was drugged? With Ry—,"

"_Rohypnol_. Not a strong dosage, just enough to make her unconscious for ten, maybe fifteen minutes." Damon circles Elena Gilbert once again, curiously. "She could have been given a drink, led upstairs and then kaput. She'd been awake, Stef. So why wouldn't she call out?"

"Because she knew them?"

"Exactly. She knew her killer. The handprints around her neck are big. A man, obviously, judging by the unnatural size. _Really_ unnatural…" Damon shakes his head, glances at his own hands pathetically, shakes his head again. "It was a quick decision—the man can't keep his anger down long enough so he tries to strangle her. He's pulled back by the same woman who wears the high heeled boots. Elena Gilbert is thrown down and stamped on. But it's not enough. So she gets a candelabra to the chest and bye bye Ms Gilbert. And then to frame you, they put two, three feathers down—just enough not to make it look too obvious."

Damon taps his own glass of bourbon. Eye it curiously. Put it back down again. Just in case. "When did you say Bonnie left you?"

"Eleven thirty-ish."

"And Kol Mikaelson has nobody to back him up," Damon mutters. "We could be dealing with a Bonnie and Clyde. Ugh. Hate those ones. Oh, well. The cops can always deal with them when the snow clears."

He downs his glass in one.

But alibis, _alibis_…

.

.

"Do you feel any better?"

"I—I do. I don't regret it. Does that make me a bad person?"

"It makes you human, Katherine. Mikaelson."

"Elijah. We said we wouldn't—,"

Damon clears his throat and pushes the door to the closet open. A smirk latches itself to the corner of his lips, a suspicious spark in his eyes, a pointed foot tapping. "You two forgot to tell me you were _married_."

Katherine's eyes flash. "We're not." Her voice is final.

"We're divorced," Elijah adds, though he sounds sad.

"And you didn't think to tell me this because…?"

"It wasn't important," Katherine stresses. "What have you found, detective?" Her own foot taps, in accordance with Damon's. No. Not her foot.

Her boot.

Bonnies and Clydes, _everywhere_, it seems.

.

.

**a/n continued:** bonbon and kol - or katherine and elijah?


	7. i need a hit

**a/n: **shortest chapter by far, I know, I know! But it's all dramatic tension and all that... Anyway, there is literally one chapter left of this short story - it was really just an experiment, to see if I could do a murder mystery, actually stick with a story and know what, I'm pretty proud of myself for actually writing it properly. Well, my friend did threaten to slowly take over me until I'd updated so here ya go, F!

Enjoy and review!

**.**

**.**

**chapter seven (or the half-truth is found)**

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_There's no escape_

_I can't wait_

**_I need a hit_**

_Baby, give me it_

_You're dangerous_

_I'm lovin' it_

.

.

The police will come, he thinks, and he'd rather just wrap everything up for them. Get the reward easily. Damon is rummaging through the papers on Elijah's desk idly when he sees them. His fingers pass over the contracts and business documents, stopping at an old, yellowing newspaper.

ELENA GILBERT—A* STUDENT, ASTUTE, _ARSONIST_?

Devour the papers, read them through again, let your eyes fall to Elena Gilbert. His fingers are steady and cold and his mouth is devoid of any smirk. This is one case he will not forget, that's for sure. Damon puts the newspaper down very carefully.

There's a knock at the door. Stefan looks in worriedly. "Damon?"

"I know who killed her."

His hand discards the forgotten glass of bourbon at the desk.

.

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**to be continued**

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**a/n continued: **so Detective Damon knows but do you?


	8. baby, give me it, i'm loving it

**a/n:** so I was debating on whether or not to put this one up - it's the end, it's finally the end and all secrets are out in the open - but I'm not sure if the ending is what you guys will like? I hope you all enjoy it anyway - it was fun, dabbling in some classic whodunnit? mystery genre!

Thank you to all who have faithfully reviewed, and followed, and liked this story! I adored reading your theories of who the killer might be - enjoy this last part for Damon has some things to say...

.

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**chapter eight (or the truth is _finally_ out)**

.

.

_There's no escape_

_I can't wait_

_I need a hit_

**_Baby, give me it_**

_You're dangerous_

_I'm lovin' it_

.

.

"The way I see it," Damon raises his glass, "there are two possible solutions."

In the corner, Caroline sniffs, two tissues in one hand and Klaus standing by with another box and a concerned expression. Elijah's eyes drift from Damon to Katherine every few seconds. Stefan is the only one who is worried, sitting in a chair and staring up at his big brother. Kol looks wholly unconcerned, swinging his legs from a table and Bonnie doesn't stop watching Damon. _Go on_, she seems to say.

"There are scuff marks on the window, a small trail of snow around the room, a smell of cologne that doesn't match any of yours on Elena Gilbert and the room," Damon supplies. He sees Caroline look surprised. "It's only possible to conclude that the killer is long gone by now. He drugged Elena, pulled her up to Elijah's office and stabbed her with the candelabra before making it out of the window. There's really no hope of finding him until the snow has gone and I can tell the cops."

There's a hum. A strong silence, ringing for eternity and evermore. Damon's sharp eyes flicker from one person to the next.

"And the second solution?" Bonnie asks.

"The second solution goes a bit like this." Damon takes the stage.

"Elena Gilbert enters the party at ten o'clock, proud and fashionably late. She isn't crashing. She was invited but it wasn't written—no, it was a special one; spoken because the dead will never be able to speak." Damon steps in front of Katherine and doesn't smile.

Beep. Beep. Press play on the old video.

Play, forward, pause, play.

Beep.

_NADIA MIKAELSON BABY BURNED IN GILBERT FIRE_

_"Nadia!" Katherine is screaming, hands are holding her back, "NADIA! Get off me—that's my baby, that's my baby! SHE'S BURNING MY BABY!" She strains, pushing to get into the burning building. _

_A baby's cry._

_Elijah is firing off statements, "Katherine, stop, Katherine, the firefighters are—get that camera off, get it off—,"_

_Katherine Pierce-Mikaelson and her husband were unable to comment._

"Someone tells her about Stefan talking all night with Bonnie. This makes her suspicious. She's always been a paranoid little girl, anyway. Everyone knows it. But she's trying to be better. So Elena finds herself a man to make Stefan jealous."

Damon nods to Kol.

**CCTV camera number 3, 10:12pm:**

_Kol spins and twists Elena around the floor, whispering sweet promises into her ear. She smiles and tilts her head back to laugh, eyes on Stefan._

_Something passes between the two as he dips her._

_Elena's face pales._

"Said man talks, dances, woos her. They dance together. The man then threatens Elena because she's an arsonist and she burned half of his family alive. This makes Elena angry, especially when she sees Stef talking to girls that's not her. She pulls herself away and thinks to burn the other half of his family. She goes to the kitchen to find oil and meets someone else." Damon's eyes are on Elijah.

_Millionaires Mikael and his wife Esther, his children, Rebekah and Henrik Mikaelson journey to Virginia, to attend a charity banquet…_

_Elijah Mikaelson, his wife, Katherine Pierce-Mikaelson, and their newborn daughter follow…_

"Someone who offers a glass of wine, laced with Rohypnol. It's known as a date rape drug. In drinks, it produces a cloudy look but it can be gone in twenty four hours so nobody would suspect a thing. Who'd take a urine sample from a dead girl? Elena begins to drink but she puts it down because the other man has to go suddenly. She's reminded of her original task and throws oil around the house as quickly as she can but before she can do anything, she's stopped by my brother. They have their soap opera fight, very loudly and very publically."

Damon watches the group carefully. They stiffen.

"But there's a problem. It's eleven thirty and Elena hasn't taken the drink. The party is breaking up. People are leaving. She goes to the bathroom and someone realises she's still here." Damon's eyes are on Bonnie.

**VOGUE interview of 2013:**

_Bonnie laughs, a golden song in even that. She's draped in elegance and grace, relaxation set in her bones, mysterious smile in her eyes._

_"So," the interviewer leans in, "Bonnie, tell us about Virginia! What happened? Give us all the gossip!"_

_Bonnie stiffens. Eyes colder than ice, fingers shaking, mouth taut. Producer's on the side, shaking her head furiously. "Nothing happened—,"_

_"We heard you went back to rekindle things with your lost love, Jeremy Something?"_

_"Jeremy Gilbert," she corrects._

_"So that's his name! What did you do there?"_

_Her mind flashes of roaring fire and impatient flames, her mother's screaming dies out in her head, the yells of her father—"Bonnie, go, Bonnie, run, Bonnie, quick!"_

_"Bonnie, are you okay? She's panicking, Bonnie, shh, Bonnie, calm down, it's okay—cut the cameras, cut the damned cameras—,"_

"One phone call and someone brings her the drink, entices her upstairs." Damon looks at Klaus quite pointedly.

_Charity banquet awry…_

_Mikaelson deaths…_

_Ruthless business tycoon, Klaus Mikaelson's business fails…_

"Someone else lays the fake killer's traces around the place, little snowflakes in the room, scuff marks by the boots I found in the closet—,"

_Caroline moves as quickly as she can, sprinkling snow and pauses before tucking away a few feathers as well—_

"Someone else stabs her in the stomach."

_"Told you I was going to make you pay," Kol hisses, the screech of a viper tangled in with his retrained voice—_

"Someone tries to strangle her but they're pushed back."

_Elijah's normally controlled face falls, the light of insanity alive in his eyes, the madness shaking in his big hands._

"Elena Gilbert falls to the floor, she's stamped on by high heeled boots."

_Katherine presses her heels, laced with the blood of the devil, on Elena's chest. _

"Harsh words are exchanged. They're all there but someone's going up, impatiently. One last act. She's stabbed by the candelabra—,"

_Bonnie Bennett fumbles for something, anything. Elena Gilbert stares at her, there's no remorse in those eyes, there's no regret so why should Bonnie feel any bad—she shoves the candelabra in—_

"And there goes Elena Gilbert, arsonist." Damon clears his throat. The atmosphere hums with tension and anxiety and Stefan's eyes are filled with a light of shock.

"So which are you going to go with, Detective?" Kol asks. "When the police arrive."

Look straight into the glass of bourbon. It swirls, golden-born and airy. Tap it with your finger, tap, tap.

"It's probably the first one," Damon replies. He looks straight at Caroline. "The killer probably fled as soon as Elena Gilbert died."

Caroline doesn't break eye contact. "Yes," she says very deliberately. There's no trace of the tearful, hysterical girl from earlier. She's been eradicated, cleaned solid. "It's entirely possible the killer left."

_LIZ FORBES—BURNED TO DEATH IN GILBERT FIRE_

_NO BODY TO BURY_

_DAUGHTER IN TEARS_

Damon bends his head respectfully. There were no bodies, he thinks. They grieved for empty coffins.

He downs his bourbon and they wait for the police to arrive.

.

.

_There's no escape_

_I can't wait_

_I need a hit_

_Baby, give me it_

**_You're dangerous_**

**_I'm lovin' it—_**

**fin**

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**a/n continued:** BET YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING! ...Actually, I really hope you didn't see that coming because then, where would be the fun? To all who thought it was Elijah, Katherine, Bonnie, Kol, etc., how does it feel, being right-_ish_? If you have any questions, please PM me and thank you, again, for reading - please review?


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